


Your Soul Is A Blinding Light, And It Calls To Me

by impossibleredhead



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Gen, Hell, M/M, Pre-Slash, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Torture, cas probably needs to get a grip on himself not dean, dean is a special boy, god's work, i'm deeply sorry for this, instead it's sorta romantic slop, partially formed soul bonds, should probably be more horrible than it is, souls - freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 09:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4559451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossibleredhead/pseuds/impossibleredhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The garrison’s work and casualties had finally paid off, and Castiel stood in awe of the face of their prize. Perhaps prize was not the right word; goal would be more suited to the single soul they had fought through the layers of Hell to reach.</p><p> </p><p>A little ficlet I posted on tumblr a few years ago about Cas rescuing Dean from Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Soul Is A Blinding Light, And It Calls To Me

The garrison’s work and casualties had finally paid off, and Castiel stood in awe of the face of their prize. Perhaps prize was not the right word; goal would be more suited to the single soul they had fought through the layers of Hell to reach.

Upon seeing the beacon of that soul, though, Castiel clearly understood why his Father was willing to sacrifice ranks of angels for this one righteous man; Dean Winchester. Even after his time spent here, his soul burnt brighter than even the grace of some of the angels Castiel had known. He seemed to glow with the purest grace of God even as he sliced away at another damned soul. Castiel had difficulty making sense of this - the brightest souls were healers and saviors, not torturers. However, he had not led his garrison here to simply gawk at the fallen righteous man, and so he quickly pushed these thoughts aside and snapped the chains that kept Dean Winchester trapped here.

Dean, understandably, was terrified. He had been doing Alistair’s work for some time now, but that did not mean he was any more accustomed to the climate of terror this low in Hell. He was a righteous man; he would never be accustomed to Hell. It wasn't in him. The chains were there to keep him in place for a reason, after all. As soon as he was freed, he dropped the torturous implement of Hell and turned horrified attention to Castiel.

The angel could only imagine how terrifying he must look to Dean. Being that they were in a different plane of existence and not limited by the constraints of Earthly bodies, his metaphorical eyes were open to the true glory of Castiel’s celestial form. He shone white, casting light for miles over the low pit of Hell the righteous man had been hidden in. The purity of his grace burnt away the despair and corruption from Dean’s soul, shriveling the effects of Hell until there was nothing left and the man shone as brightly as Castiel himself.

There was a flurry, a commotion that was not quite voices so much as it was feeling, a part of Castiel; his garrison was fighting back against the amassing forces of Hell. They had come down knowing that they would not all see the glory and the grace of Heaven again, but Castiel knew that if they did not retreat now, none of them would, especially not Dean Winchester.

This was an important mission, one that must be fulfilled. The orders came from high up, higher than Castiel had knowledge of. The Host would keep trying, no matter the loss. Castiel had taken this duty with honor, resolving with himself to not fail in this, his most important mission. He was the captain of the garrison, and he would stay with and deliver the righteous man and his brothers and sisters from the pits of Hell; he would not fail or desert them, unlike Anael before him.

He had not, however, figured Dean Winchester into his plans.

He had assumed that the soul of a righteous man would cower before them, desperate to escape from the pit he had been locked into; he had not expected Dean to fight back. But fight he did, insomuch as he could. He cowered away from Castiel, dodging around him and keeping his metaphorical feet firmly planted on the insubstantial ground when Castiel tried to lift him to redemption. The commotion was growing louder, getting nearer and Castiel’s grace twinged as they lost another sister, Mariel’s grace snuffing out and diffusing over the brutal landscape of Hell. Castiel fought with more vigor to grasp Dean and take him off to Earth, worried that every moment his garrison spent down here unprotected was another chance for the annihilation of the ranks of Heaven. The sheer weight of the unadulterated sin surrounding them lowered protections; they were as easy as any human to kill, here in the home of the demons and the fallen.

Dean Winchester was having none of it though, much to Castiel’s angelic consternation. Emotions were not something angels were privy to, being beyond that plane of existence. However, as his time chasing Dean lengthened, he felt the stirrings in his soul, felt _things_ beyond his family, felt things of his own. He had no word for most of them, but one in particular stood out from the rest. Because he knew it already. He knew the love for the Father, and he knew the love for this soul, this righteous man who would do great things for God and his creations. He could not leave this soul here, could not fail in saving him from the grip of perdition because he meant too much; he _was_ too much.

The fight was drawing near though, and he was no closer to coaxing Dean to come with him to safety. In his frustration, he reached out to Dean once more, losing some control on his grace in the confusion of emotions. His grace wrapped around Dean, burrowed into him without Castiel’s conscious intent before he could stop himself. He reeled back, attempting to reign himself in before he became one with the soul; Hell was no place for a bonding, though the damage was already partially done. There was some of his angelic grace in Dean, and likewise some of the righteous man burned within him now.

His Father was without boundaries though, and as he pulled away he found mercy on his rash actions, even here in the deepest pits of Hell; instead of running from him, Dean now drew closer, closing the gap between the lights of their souls in desperation to be near, to know more than himself - souls in Hell were lonely, far beyond the singularity they knew on Earth. Dean sang with overwhelming fear and sadness, the piece of him that had merged with Castiel carrying his desperate song through the angel’s grace; his entire being sung for his brother, for salvation and mercy, and now for Castiel, as though if the angel were to leave, Dean knew he would be lost to the bowels of Hell for eternity, would never know the beauty of Samuel Winchester’s soul beside his where it should be.

There was an aching gap in the righteous man, only partially filled by Castiel’s grace - he was not long for the tortures of Hell, he needed redemption and Castiel was awed by the reflection of the Father he glimpsed in Dean. He had never seen God, he didn't know anyone who had; but he knew him to have been here, to have touched on Dean Winchester much as Castiel had. It was with reverence for his Father and the righteous man himself, who pressed into Castiel as tightly as possible, trying to get back that feeling of being one, that Castiel smote the first demon to find it’s way to them. It dissolved away for eternity to parts Castiel neither knew nor cared about.

Dean, reveling in the warmth and comfort of his grace, refused to pull away from him, and though he knew that they would have to part ways soon, Castiel wrapped himself tightly around the righteous man and lifted him, calling back the garrison as they fled Hell.

His siblings went back to Heaven to convene and begin memorial for their lost brothers and sisters, while Castiel traveled to the realm of Earth instead. He found the place of Dean’s burial easily, a simple command fixing the damage to the human vessel of Dean’s soul. He offered the body to Dean, consoling him with warmth and love, attempting to show him the way. Dean seemed to acknowledge that he was free from Hell, though he did not harbor any much happier feelings for the warmth and light of Earth. He had been touched by the Host of Heaven, he knew more warmth than ever to be found walking the Earth.

Castiel had never felt before, had never had emotions as he did in the righteous man’s presence. He did, however, hate forcing Dean back into his body. He hated the cries in the song of his soul as Castiel trapped him in the living flesh, the agony as the soul reintegrated with the human form. He soothed as well as he could with the heavenly song of Hallelujahs that he had been singing for millennia, sang for Dean until the soul became one once more with the body.

He felt an intense pull towards Dean, dragging him in; he did not wish to leave the man to dig from his own grave, nor did he wish to leave the land his Father had created in such devastation. However, he was falling weak from the battle and the energy he had used raising Dean from perdition. He needed to return to Heaven to mourn those lost and to regain his strength. The mission was not entirely over - he would have to return to give guidance.

Reluctantly, he flew home to join in the choirs of Heaven, singing for the loss of their siblings. He announced upon arrival, with energy born of the remaining emotions: _**Dean Winchester is saved.**_

He would not mourn the absence of Dean, of the bond they now shared; he had siblings to mourn for now, and he would rejoin Dean once he had regained his energy. There was much to do for the righteous man.

**Author's Note:**

> note: i intended for the whole 'god touching dean's soul' thing to be more literal than it probably comes across. i meant for dean to mean so much for the world and for castiel to be so effected by the emotions he's feeling for him to instinctually recognize god's personal presence.
> 
> this has been edited and spellchecked and fiddled with a little, so i won't bother including a link back to the original post. i am, however, adding a note and a link to the original post. also, come join me at my terrible slop of a blog-like thing. it's trash, really. [grade a trash](http://impossible-redhead.tumblr.com).


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